One of Oscar’s most intimate companions was a boy of about his own age, named Alfred Walton, who attended the same school with him.  Alfred’s father was dead; but he had a step-father, whom he called father, and with whom he lived.  His home was to Oscar a very attractive one; for it was a public house, and had large stables and a stage-office attached, and was usually full of company.  Alfred’s step-father was the landlord of the hotel, and of course he and his young friends were privileged characters about the premises.  Oscar and Alfred were together a great deal of the time, when out of school, and quite a warm friendship existed between them.  On Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, and during the other play hours of the week, Oscar might generally be found about the hotel premises, or riding on the coaches with Alfred.  He only regretted that he could not stay there altogether; for he thought it must be a fine thing to live in such a place, where he could do pretty much as he pleased, without anybody’s interference.  Such, at least, seemed to be the privilege of Alfred; for everybody, from his step-father down to the humblest servants, appeared to have too much other business on their hands to give much attention to his boyish movements.

Oscar made many acquaintances at the hotel, not a few of which were anything but desirable for a boy of his age and character.  He was on chatty terms with all the stage-drivers, hostlers, and servants about the premises, and also got acquainted with many strangers who stopped there for a season.  He was very fond of listening to the stories of the drivers and other frequenters of the stage-office, and he would sit by the hour, inhaling the smoke of their cigars, admiring their long yarns, and laughing at the jokes they cracked.  Much of this conversation was coarse and even vulgar, such as a pure mind could not listen to without suffering contamination, or at least a blunting of its delicate sensibilities.  It is a serious misfortune for a youth to be exposed to such influences, but Oscar did not know it, or did not believe it.

Among the hangers about the stable, was a queer fellow who went by the name of Andy.  His real name was Anderson.  He was weak-minded and childish, his lack of intellect taking the form of silliness rather than of stupidity.  Indeed, he was bright and quick in his way, but it was a very foolish and nonsensical way.  He was famous among all the boys of the neighborhood, for using strange and amusing words, and especially for a system of spelling on which he prided himself, and which is not laid down in any of the dictionaries.  He afforded much sport to the boys, who would gather around him, and give him words by the dozen to spell.  The readiness and ingenuity with which he would mis-spell the most simple words, was quite amusing to them.  He never hesitated, nor stopped to think, but always spelt the given word in his peculiar way, just as promptly as though he did it according to a rule which he perfectly understood.